When Silence Became Unacceptable

There are stories that stay with you — not because they’re sensational, but because they are unresolved. Because they stop mid-sentence. Because no one ever came back to finish telling them.

For me, the stories of missing and murdered Indigenous men and women have always been like that. Incomplete. Interrupted. Left hanging in the air while life moved on for everyone else.

Over time, it became impossible to ignore the pattern.

Indigenous people go missing at disproportionate rates. Indigenous women and girls face violence at levels far exceeding the national average. Indigenous men disappear, are found murdered, or remain unaccounted for with far less attention than their cases warrant. And when these cases stall — when leads dry up, when jurisdictional confusion sets in, when families are told there is nothing more that can be done — the silence becomes its own kind of harm.

I’ve listened to families describe years spent searching for answers with little support. I’ve read case files that stopped abruptly, not because the mystery was solved, but because momentum faded. I’ve seen names disappear from databases, stories vanish from headlines, and loved ones left to carry the weight alone.

At some point, awareness wasn’t enough.

I realized that what was missing — alongside the people themselves — was a centralized, accessible place to document cases, preserve information, and allow people to share what they know without fear of being dismissed or ignored.

That realization is why I launched IndigenousMissing.com.

This site was created to serve as a public record for missing and unsolved murdered Indigenous men and women — a place where cases remain visible even when official attention wanes. It is also being built as a space where information can still surface: details someone remembers, sightings someone never reported, connections that were overlooked, or tips that may not have felt important at the time.

Because time does not erase relevance.

The facts are stark. Indigenous women and girls are murdered at rates several times higher than non-Indigenous women. Indigenous people experience higher rates of disappearance, and their cases are less likely to receive sustained media coverage. Jurisdictional complexity — involving tribal, state, and federal authorities — often leads to delays, gaps, or outright inaction. Families are left navigating systems not designed to protect them.

And yet, many of these cases are not cold because they lack substance. They are cold because they lacked urgency.

IndigenousMissing.com exists to counter that.

This project is not about speculation or sensationalism. It is about documentation. Accuracy. Visibility. Respect. It is about creating a structured space where cases can be recorded clearly, where information is preserved rather than lost, and where communities can contribute responsibly.

It is also about accountability — not in an accusatory sense, but in a factual one. Acknowledging what has happened. Acknowledging what has not been done. And refusing to allow silence to be the final word.

This site is still growing. A searchable database is currently in development, and more cases will continue to be added. The work will take time. It will require care. And it will require listening — especially to families and communities who have already waited far too long.

But doing nothing was no longer an option.

Every missing person is more than a statistic. Every unsolved homicide leaves behind a ripple of unanswered questions. And every case deserves to remain visible until answers are found.

IndigenousMissing.com is my commitment to that belief — and my refusal to let these stories disappear.

Because remembering is not passive.

And because justice begins with being seen.